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Wed 29 Jan, 2003 10:39 pm
You go to school from four years old, the first part of your life,
When that's done, if you're lucky, college takes another slice,
After years of studying, finally ready for your job,
And from morning till evening you'll work, except the sick days that you rob.
Sure you get vacation, about three weeks every year,
And when time for the long one comes there're grey parts in your hair.
So, to put it in a nutshell, you work from four to sixty-five,
And by the time you get that old, you're tired being alive.
from my book "Self Expression"
Andrew Murray
Sad but true and the time flies by doesn't it.
yah it is a short live tru to the bone and they make u pick what u want u to do when ur 18 or maybe younger you havent even matured all the way u havent even seen the real world it pisses me off but yah since its short make somehting of it and since alot of kids got it worse than you help them but u can make it glorious and so aweseom and the perfect neverending story in heaven
Andrew, liked the poem but guess the secret is to find a job you enjoy.
Mind you, in the UK we mainly have a minimum of four weeks' holiday, often rising to five or six.
I know quite a few people in their sixties, and most of them have found their second childhoods thanks to their grandchildren. They're not at all tired of being alive but since retiring (health permitting) are happier than ever.
In fact, that's a rather nice idea for a poem!
Very good job, Andrew. Very good.
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